


Clever As the Devil

by southsidestyle



Series: riverdale bingo: summer 2020 [6]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Double Penetration, F/M, Face-Fucking, Loss of Virginity, Multiple Orgasms, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Spitroasting, Squirting, Threesome, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:21:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27290086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/southsidestyle/pseuds/southsidestyle
Summary: She’s apparently the Serpents' annual virgin sacrifice, and according to Fangs, she only has a few hours left to get herself out of it, but as Cheryl’s mind wanders back to that mysterious mark that made her a target, she realizes the obvious—and only—solution before her.Cheryl can’t be the virgin sacrifice if she’s no longer a virgin.And luckily for her, she’s got at least one dimwitted boy upstairs that should be easy enough to trick into helping her, if not two of them.
Relationships: Cheryl Blossom/Fangs Fogarty, Cheryl Blossom/Fangs Fogarty/Sweet Pea, Cheryl Blossom/Sweet Pea
Series: riverdale bingo: summer 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902469
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37
Collections: Riverdale Bingo Summer 2020, Riverdale Kink Week





	Clever As the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Seems like I saved my longest story for last! Really, this is just the most Halloween themed one, so I wanted to post it closer to the day, but it worked out well, I think. This was fun to write and a little something different, while still being very much my normal too. 
> 
> The tone I was going for with this was kinda similar to movies like Ready or Not, the Babysitter moves on Netflix or even Happy Death Day. It's not really a dark comedy horror, as it's not really funny or scary, but it's more like this could be a plot or scene in a movie similar to those. Hopefully this mess of an explanation will make more sense to you once you've read it, and if not, I hope you enjoy it anyway.
> 
> -
> 
> [Riverdale Bingo, Summer 2020](https://southsidestyle.tumblr.com/bingo): Threesome.  
> [Riverdale Kink Week 2020](https://southsidestyle.tumblr.com/bingo): The Gang's All Here.

The first thing Cheryl registers when she comes to is the smell. She can’t place the exact scent, other than repugnant, but it’s so strong that it has her gagging before she’s even opening her eyes.

When she finally does and she looks around the hell hole she’s found herself in, it makes sense why it smells so rancid.

_The Serpents._

She’s tied up in what looks like a basement somewhere—not the Whyte Wyrm, she’s almost positive, so small miracles—with hideous, juvenile, fraternity-like decor and a giant snake painted on the wall.

And she’s alone. For now, at least.

“Hello?!” she calls out into the empty room, hoping her shrill voice travels up the stairs to where she assumes her kidnappers are hiding out like the cowards they clearly are. “Reveal thyselves this instant!”

When the only reply she’s granted is deafening silence, Cheryl huffs in frustration and indignation, and starts struggling to properly sit up. It proves to be a more difficult task than anticipated, what with her hands tied behind her back, but eventually she succeeds and is able to get herself up into the worn out leather recliner in the corner of the room.

It’s nothing compared to the comfort of her canopy sleigh bed—or even the red velvet sofa in the sitting room—back at Thistlehouse, but it certainly beats the cold cement floor.

As she settles into the seat, Cheryl tries to recall what last she remembers and what could have possibly happened to her to land her in the clutches of the South Side Serpents.

The last thing she remembers is leaving her house to go to Josie’s to get ready for Chuck Clayton’s Halloween party. She’d left a bit earlier than originally planned because she had car trouble earlier in the day so she had to walk and she wanted to beat the trick or treaters; she was playing one of favorite playlists loudly in her headphones, making her vulnerable to attack before even leaving her own property.

She doesn’t remember any kind of blinding pain or suddenly seeing black, let alone any glimpse of her attackers; it’s literally just the trees lining the road off the Blossom estate and then this _smell_.

Obviously something happened between though, she just doesn’t know what. Or why.

Surely this doesn’t have anything to do with her brother’s murder—the tragic ending to the tragic tale of the last time a Blossom was held captive by the Serpents.

Cheryl hasn’t a clue what the Serpents could possibly want with her now, considering her family doesn’t even have the money they used to have—the money that the reptiles kidnapped her poor JJ for—so she just prays there’s a way she can get out of this alive.

Her life may not be an overly joyous one, at least not currently, but that doesn’t mean she wants it to end anytime soon. That incident at Sweetwater River last year made that crystal clear to her.

So whatever it is these men want and whatever it is they plan to do with her, Cheryl plans to fight back every step of the way.

\---

Cheryl isn’t sure how much time has passed before someone finally comes down, because of course these heathens don’t have a clock hanging anywhere, but it takes enough time for her to become even more frustrated with her predicament than before.

Two greaser looking teenage boys in leather jackets she recognizes from school come bounding down the stairs sounding like a herd of wildebeests and laughing their asses off about something, like they’re having the time of their lives. And to be fair, they probably are, the monsters.

“You’re up,” the shorter one says when he notices her glaring at him. “Thought you’d be out for a couple more hours at least.”

“I told you that you didn’t use enough chloroform,” the taller one complains, punching his friend in the shoulder, which earns him a push back.

“Excuse me! Cretins!” she calls out to draw their attention back to her, leaning forward in the recliner in an attempt to seem less vulnerable than she is. “What is the meaning of this? Why for have you captured me and tied me up in this _rank_ chamber of hideous decor?!”

The two imbeciles share a look at her demanding tone, and the shorter one seems a little scared of her, despite the obvious reasons he shouldn’t be, and Cheryl makes sure to take note of that as she waits for her answer.

“Hey, don’t get mad at us, Red,” the taller one insists with a laugh and a shrug, not fazed at all. “We’re just following orders here.”

Cheryl narrows her eyes. “Orders from _whom_?”

“The big boss,” the shorter one answers, giving her nothing to work with.

“You mean your Serpent King?” she clarifies with a scoff at the ridiculous moniker, trying to figure out what FP Jones could possibly want with her from behind bars.

“Nope,” the same one replies with a grin, popping the P like he’s just dying to spill the beans. It’s obvious that one’s the weaker link of the two.

“Even bigger than him,” the other one adds in, smarmy and superior in his own way, but somehow a bit more intimidating still—probably due to the combination of his height and the classy neck tattoo.

But if they’re not taking orders from FP, then from whom? As far as she knows, FP is still leading all the ruffians from Shankshaw and hasn’t been replaced. Not that she keeps much tabs on the gang.

“Who?” Cheryl questions in genuine curiosity, sure she would have at least heard about a change in leadership that big.

“You wouldn’t believe us if we told you,” the tall one says with a knowing smirk, and then shares a laugh with his fellow delinquent that has Cheryl’s hackles raised.

“ _Whom_ do you work for, _snakes_?” she demands to know again, this time putting more bite behind the question.

And even though she obviously poses no threat from her current position, it still garners her an answer, just not one given out of any sort of fear.

“The Devil,” the short one answers simply.

The tall one laughs. “Congrats, Red, you’re this year’s virgin sacrifice.”

“The Devil?” Cheryl repeats blandly, completely unimpressed by their antics and attempts to mock her. “ _Please._ In case you haven’t heard, _my father_ is dead.”

“Told you you wouldn’t believe us,” the tall one shrugs, and something about the way neither of them try to press it has Cheryl second guessing herself.

As a Blossom who grew up in Thornhill Manor, it’s not as if she’s any stranger to the occult. To the best of her knowledge, none of it is actually real, but her family is messed up and weird enough to have dabbled in it before, or so the stories go.

There’s family legends of Blossom ancestors being witches, some even descendants of Satan himself, but not even her evil wench of a mother believed them, so Cheryl never did either.

But Riverdale is a strange town, with many strange happenings, so if there was ever a place something like this could actually be real, it’d surely be here.

And that thought might be kind of compelling, if it didn’t also mean she’s about to die in some inane sacrifice to him by a dirty biker gang just because she’s never had sex before.

Besides, whether Satan is real or not is fairly irrelevant to her circumstances, because it seems she’s going to be killed in his name all the same.

And that just won’t do.

“Let’s say that I do believe you,” she reluctantly replies, keeping her voice skeptical and not scared. “I imagine Satan is going to be very upset with you when he finds out the girl you snatched isn’t as pure as you’d hope.” When she’s met with blank looks, Cheryl growls in frustration. How is she supposed to talk her way out of this when her captors are so dimwitted? “You _morons!_ Look at me! Do you really think someone with a face and a body as immaculate as mine doesn’t have men throwing themselves at her all the time?”

It’s a lie, of course, Cheryl is very much a virgin, it’s just by choice. She’s no holy roller saving herself for marriage or anything of the sort, it’s simply that no boy at Riverdale High interested her, let alone deserved her.

“Oh, I’m sure you do,” the tall one laughs, giving her a lecherous once over that makes Cheryl feel more exposed than she actually is. “But save your breath, Blossom; you’ve got the mark, and you can’t bluff your way outta that.”

“A mark?” she echoes in confusion, quickly trying to check herself but having little luck while fully clothed and with her hands still bound at the wrists behind her. “What _mark_?”

“Dunno,” he says, once again completely useless to her. “We’re not high up enough to know any of those details.” Cheryl bites back a condescending snort. “We just do as we’re told, and we were told to grab one of you and keep you here until they’re ready to come get you for midnight.”

“So sit tight, you’ve got a few more hours to go,” the little tacks on as his buddy heads towards the stairs and he starts following, before he stops at the bottom to tell her one last thing. “But for what it’s worth, you’re definitely the hottest virgin I’ve ever met.”

His pervy, but weirdly sincere, comment is followed by a bang and a yelp. “Fangs, don’t compliment the hostage, you idiot!” Cheryl hears the other one chastise him on their way up.

“Why?” this Fangs boy whines. “She’s gonna be dead in a few hours, we can’t be nice?”

Whatever his friend replies, he replies behind a closed door, so Cheryl doesn’t hear it, but she’s glad to be alone again, so she can start figuring out what to do with all the information she just received and how it can possibly save her.

\---

Cheryl has no idea when to expect the boys to come back, so she doesn’t waste a second of her time alone.

A few quick sweeps of the basement make it painfully clear that there’s no way out for her; all four walls are solid cement and the only window she can see has bars and is so high up she’d never be able to get to it, let alone through it without the use of her hands.

The only way out for Cheryl is up those stairs, and without any idea of what’s up there—or _who_ —making a run for it is also off the table.

If only Cheryl had her bow, then these goons would be done for—as soon as she got her hands free, of course.

But she doesn’t have her bow, or anything to work with. All Cheryl has to rely on to save herself is her brain and her mouth. It’s just lucky for her that those two things are often known to get her out of sticky situations.

So she just needs to calm down and _think_.

Cheryl thinks about the boys she just talked to—Fangs and, if she recalls correctly from school, Sweet Pea?—and all the batshit crazy information they just gave her and what she can do with it.

Both of them are clearly lackeys, with very little in the way of knowledge of the grander picture, so there’s probably not much further information she can pump out of them, so she’ll have to make due with what she already knows. Which is:

Fangs is clearly the nicer of the two, and he’s probably dumber too, or at least more naive; he’ll definitely be the easier to manipulate, she quickly deduces, and that’s essential information to have.

The Serpents are her captors, which she already knew, but more than that, they’re following orders not from their Serpent King, but from _Satan_ , apparently. She’s still not quite sure she completely believes that, but _they_ clearly do, so for the sake of hatching an escape plan, Cheryl will accept the premiere that she’s here under the orders of the Devil.

She’s not entirely sure if Satan himself ordered them to kidnap _her_ , Cheryl Blossom, specifically, or if she was just the one unlucky enough to get grabbed, because she was supposedly sporting some invisible mark that let them know that she’s a virgin.

Which brings Cheryl to the final, and most vital piece of information she got out of the boys: she’s apparently the annual Halloween virgin sacrifice to Satan, and is to be offered to him at midnight tonight—there’s a sentence she never thought she’d think.

According to Fangs, she only has a few hours left to get herself out of it, and as Cheryl’s mind wanders back to that mysterious mark that made her a target and what it could be, she realizes the obvious—and only—solution before her.

Cheryl can’t be the virgin sacrifice if she’s no longer a virgin.

So it turns out, she’s got one more weapon at her disposal than she thought—her body. And luckily for her, she’s got at least one dimwitted boy upstairs that should be easy enough to trick into helping her.

\---

As Cheryl goes over different scenarios in her head while she waits for the boys to come back down, she continuously gets stuck on how she’s going to get Fangs alone.

Sweet Pea doesn’t exactly strike her as an overly intelligent boy himself, but he’s clearly tougher and more jagged, so while she doesn’t completely write off the possibility of him being seducable, she’s pretty confident in her assessment that he’d be more of a hindrance to her if he’s present than if he’s not.

So yes, Cheryl’s decided that a crucial element to her plan is to separate the two boys somehow; how she’s going to do that is the much more difficult part to figure out.

But just as she’s running over possible ideas in her head, she hears the basement door open and the steps creak under the weight of someone coming down them.

Some _one_.

And as Cheryl holds her breath and hopes that if the Devil is real then God is too and He’ll throw her this one bone to give her a fighting chance, she keeps her eyes trained on the bottom of that staircase, and doesn’t breathe until she sees Fangs reveal himself.

He’s sporting a friendly smile and a takeout bag from Pop’s and Cheryl could just cry in relief—both at the renewed hope and the food. She’s been too preoccupied to realize how hungry she is until she sees it.

“Went on a Pop’s run and brought you back something,” Fangs tells her, dropping the bag on the table beside the recliner. “Just don’t tell Sweet Pea; he thinks just because we have to sacrifice you, we have to be assholes about it. But he’s always an asshole, so I guess it makes sense.”

“ _Thank you_.” Cheryl makes a big show of sighing, and she is laying it on thick, but it’s also a little genuine too; she’s hungry and it makes the smell in here more bearable. “How did you manage to sneak it past him?” she wonders, hoping to get some idea of what the other boy is up to and if he is indeed the only other occupant of the house.

Fangs laughs as crouches down to dig through the bag and starts taking out the food—it’s just a cheese burger and fries, but it looks delicious. “I gave him his dinner first and waited until he went to take a nap before I came down to give you yours. So I hope you don’t mind that it’s reheated.”

“No, that’s fine,” she assures him, trying to hide her jubilation at what he just shared about Sweet Pea. Maybe there really is hope for her yet. “But a nap? Really? At this hour?”

“Well, we have a long night ahead of us,” Fangs reminds her with a chuckle, as if he’s not talking about her murder. “Even if we’re gonna be missing out on the main event.”

Yeah, this guy is definitely not bright, and while Cheryl usually has no patience for the brainless, it works out heavily in her favor here, so she keeps her smile plastered on and her snarky comments to herself.

“Right,” she says tightly, watching as the boy stands up straight once he’s got her dinner unwrapped and placed on top of the folded bag. “Does that mean you’ll join me as I eat, then? It does get rather lonely down here on my own and I—I don’t want to spend the last hours before my death alone.”

Fangs has a terrible poker face, so Cheryl knows she’s got him instantly, but he still puts on a show of pretending to consider it before he eventually gives in.

“Sure,” he finally says with a friendly smile, going to grab a chair from across the room for himself. “It’s not like you can eat dinner without your hands, and Sweet Pea would kill me if I left you alone when you were untied.”

He’d surely kill him for untying her in the first place, Cheryl wants to snort, but for obvious reasons, doesn’t. If she was a better person, she might feel bad for taking advantage of this guy’s clearly good nature, but she’s not and he still kidnapped her, so it’s still fuck him, no matter how kind.

“Oh, thank you,” Cheryl still sighs again when he frees her arms though, and while her first instinct is to push him down, run up the stairs, and hope to slip past Sweet Pea, she fights it.

That’s nothing more than a very short term plan, considering how many Serpents are crawling around this town, especially on the South Side, where she surely is; all it would take is one call and she’d be snatched up again in no time at all.

No, Cheryl’s only play here is to take herself off the sacrificing table entirely, and there’s only one way to do that without knowing what this mark is.

Fangs nods and finally sits, motioning towards Cheryl’s dinner. “I hope what I got you is okay, but I figured everyone likes Pop’s burgers, right?”

“Yes, even me,” the redhead admits as she digs in, taking a few fries first before starting on her burger.

“Good?” Fangs checks as he watches her eat—surprisingly, not in a creepy way, but just a curious one, like he’s ready to take her food back upstairs to heat up again if she needs it.

Cheryl swallows her first bite and nods. “Yes, thank you,” she says once again, hating that she does feel a little bit of gratitude for his kindness, regardless of the rest of what he’s done. She blames her wicked parents for conditioning her to take such scraps. “Wouldn’t be my first choice for a last meal, but it’s good.”

For some reason, this reminder of what’s to come seems to finally register with Fangs, and it dims his grin a little bit as he averts his eyes.

“Yeah,” he mumbles quietly, looking like he wants to say something, but changes his mind. Instead, he says, “I would probably want a nice big juicy steak as my last meal.”

The Blossom girl bites back a growl at his attempts to deflect, and decides not to let him. She doesn’t exactly have all the time in the world to wear him down. He showed a flicker of remorse and she needs to exploit that as much as possible, as soon as possible.

“Would you believe I’ve never had a good steak before?” Cheryl begins casually, popping a few more fries into her mouth. They’re already getting a bit cold, but she doesn’t want to risk sending Fangs away, so she ignores it. “Too pedestrian, my father used to say.” It’s actually not untrue. “I guess that’s just one more thing I’ll never get to experience before I die.”

Her depressing words and harrowed tone have the desired effect on the boy, who looks dismayed, but tries to hide it. “That—That sucks,” he stutters out, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “The steak thing and everything else too.” He pauses for a moment that hangs in the air between them before he finally says what he really means. “It sucks that you got picked this year.”

That’s her opening already, and Cheryl doesn’t hesitate to slip inside.

“How was it that I came to be the chosen one, anyhow?” she wonders innocently, taking a small bite of her burger before continuing. “Surely there are hundreds of other virgins in Riverdale, just as ripe for the picking, and apparently all helpfully labeled for you all. Did you draw my name out of a hat? Was there some kind of other requirement that only I met?”

“I—I don’t know,” Fangs stutters again, seemingly overwhelmed by all the questions he probably doesn’t have the answers to. “I don’t know how they pick. They just gave us a list of five names yesterday and said we could pick whoever we wanted today. The others are like, backup, in case something went wrong with the pick up or we couldn’t get our first choice. This is our first year helping, we really don’t know anything more than we’re told. We just know one of the senior Serpents will be by later to bring you over to the Wyrm for the ceremony. We don’t even get to go with.”

“So there are other perfectly acceptable options out there?” Cheryl presses, trying not to sound too eager.

“I guess…”

“So you could let me go and still be able to appease your boss with a sacrifice?”

“ _No_ ,” Fangs quickly denies, shaking his head vehemently. “No, I mean, I _could_ , but can’t!”

“You _can!_ ” Cheryl insists firmly, abandoning her burger and leaning forward in her chair to look into the boy’s eyes for an appeal. “Fangs, think about it; did you or Sweet Pea inform anyone else that of all the names on the list, you chose me?”

Fangs looks torn as he admits, “No, but—”

“No _buts_ ,” she cuts him off before he can continue. “You clearly like me, don’t you? You complimented my looks, you brought me food, and kept me company. Surely you don’t really want me to die tonight, right?”

“No,” Fangs very reluctantly admits with a whine, clearly upset that Cheryl has pressed this so hard and put him in this position. “But I can’t just let you go now because I like you. The other Serpents might not know, but Sweet Pea would and he’d kill me.”

It’s clear that Cheryl was wrong in her initial assessment of Fangs—he’s much more kind than he is dumb—but a boy doesn’t have to be stupid to fall for her charms, just breathing. So Cheryl just goes for broke, because she’s literally got nothing to lose.

“Then help me get out of this another way,” she suggests, plastering on a sly grin and throwing the Serpent suggestive eyes.

Fangs furrows his brows, making Cheryl rethink her reassessment of his intelligence. “How else are you gonna get out of this?”

“By no longer being a virgin,” the redhead answers simply, even though she’s not confident he’ll understand what she means.

And of course he doesn’t. “But you are,” he replies obliviously. “They said you have the mark.”

“Yes, but what if I _didn’t_?” she tries again, speaking pointedly and giving him a look.

“Well then you wouldn’t work as a sacrifice,” Fangs responds automatically, and while he doesn’t get it at first, Cheryl gives him the time to figure it out, and then just like that, the answer becomes as obvious to him as it did to her. “ _Ohhh.”_

“You and Sweet Pea can’t see what this _mark_ is, so however were you to know that I happened to have lost my virginity to Reggie Mantle just last night?” Cheryl recites the perfectly plausible and fool proof story she’d come up with while left to her own devices, proving to the boy just how easily this can work if he agrees to play his part. “I protested and attempted to tell you when first we spoke, but of course you had no reason to believe me; I was on the list, after all, and who were you to question your elders or Satan himself? It’s neither of your faults, really. Your senior Serpent will come, presumably be able to see that I no longer have this damning virginity mark I’m supposed to have, and you’ll still have time to go fetch one of the other poor souls on the list, with just enough time to spare before midnight. And I can be freed, with a vow to never speak of this again.”

Fangs listens along intently, on the edge of his seat as she ropes him in more and more with each word, and Cheryl knows she has him when he smiles.

“You’re really fucking smart, Red,” he laughs, suddenly losing all of those nerves and all of that guilt that was eating him up a minute ago. Now he’s just giddy. “I can’t believe I have to fuck you to save your life.”

It’s not exactly how Cheryl imagined losing her virginity, but beggars can’t be choosers, so she smiles back at him.

“I believe that’s what most people would call a win/win.”

\---

Fangs insists on Cheryl finishing her dinner before anything happens, during which he grills her on just how much of a virgin she is and what she’s comfortable doing with him tonight.

It’s honestly ridiculously sweet and endearing, how kind and thoughtful he is, considering how easy it would be for him to exploit this situation in which he has all the power. It’s possible he doesn’t realize that, she supposes and would normally assume, but with this boy in particular, Cheryl finds she just wants to believe in his goodness for some reason.

So when she finishes eating and he offers to go get her a drink before they start, Cheryl takes him up on his offer so she can have a minute alone to collect herself.

She doesn’t know why she’s so nervous, considering Fangs is obviously the nicest boy in the world next to Archie Andrews, and it’s not as if she’s ever really had some grand romantic idea of losing her virginity.

It’s probably the looming threat of death if this plan doesn’t work more than anything though, so when Fangs comes back down with the bottle of beer she requested—shockingly, they did not have her first choice of wine handy—she tries to push all thoughts of Satan and Serpents and marks out of her head.

All Cheryl allows herself to think about as she takes a big gulp of the cheap beer being handed to her is Fangs and sex, so that when she puts the bottle down on the table, she doesn’t overthink before reaching for the fly of his jeans.

“Whoa, whoa,” he says, grabbing for her wrists to slow her down. “I told you that you didn’t have to do that.”

Cheryl rolls her eyes, but not meanly. “But I want to,” she firmly asserts, shaking off his hold to continue pulling his zipper down. “If I’m losing my virginity, I’m getting the full experience.”

That’s all Fangs needs to hear for him to relent—he’s a sweet guy, not a saint—and allow Cheryl to do her thing. “All right, Blossom, but that means you gotta let me return the favor after then.”

And well, Cheryl’s certainly not going to deny him that pleasure either. “Gladly,” she smirks, keeping her mouth slanted as she pushes the boys jeans and underwear down his thighs.

She waits for him to step out of them before she’s pulling him closer so that he’s standing in front of her as she reclaims her seat in the recliner—she might be close to meeting Satan, but there’s no way in Hell that Cheryl Blossom is kneeling on this dirty basement floor, let alone to service a Southsider, as cute as he may be.

Fangs doesn’t seem to mind though, he’s just happy to be there, which Cheryl appreciates; she likes a boy that knows how lucky he is to be in her presence, and he’s about to be the luckiest boy in the world.

Cheryl can feel his eyes on her as she reaches for his half hard cock and wraps her fingers around it experimentally. She truly has no experience, and doesn’t exactly spend her spare time watching pornography, but she’s no idiot, and has overheard more than enough vulgar girl talk from her fellow Vixens to have some clue what she’s doing.

As she gives the shaft careful tugs, Cheryl quickly realizes this is probably one of the many things that would be easier to do with shorter nails, but she makes due, and before long, she can feel Fangs’ dick slowly growing stiffer in her hand.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Fangs moans as he continues to watch her, shuffling a little bit closer.

He doesn’t ask for more, but Cheryl can tell he wants it, so before he reaches his full length, she leans forward and takes his cock into her mouth without giving herself much time to overthink it.

Cheryl has even less of an idea of what to do now, but she fancies herself a quick learner and just tries to pay attention to what Fangs reacts to so she can keep doing that. From what she can tell, it seems that he _really_ likes it when she takes so much of his dick into her mouth that the head of it pokes the back of her throat.

He keeps making these little whiny noises when she does that—between gasps, anyways—and his fists curl extra tight at his sides.

It takes her a couple minutes to realize he’s doing that because he’s trying to refrain from putting his hands on her head, and while she appreciates the gesture, Cheryl would appreciate the guidance even more, so she reaches out to take hold of one and place it in her hair.

“It’s okay,” she assures him when she pulls back for air. “Show me how you like it.”

For someone that craves control in almost every situation, it’s a big deal for Cheryl to hand it over to Fangs, but they’ve quickly built a weird sense of trust between them and there’s no denying that the boy has a lot more experience at this than her, so she’s willing to make an exception.

It’s one she almost regrets when the boy soon starts pistoning his hips forward at a much faster pace than she’d been going, but he doesn’t go _too_ fast, and she’s able to adapt swiftly by hollowing out her cheeks and focusing on breathing through her nose, so she doesn’t try to stop him.

Fangs’ balls slap against Cheryl’s chin and her nose gets crushed just a little bit with every snap of his hips, but none of it hurts and his cock doesn’t even taste that bad, she finds; the musky smell might be stronger than the taste, if anything.

Cheryl doesn’t mind it, actually.

But just as she’s getting used to it, Fangs switches it up and pulls his cock out of her mouth to let her set the pace again.

She’s a lot more confident when she takes his spit slicked shaft back into her hand, and she jerks him off with much more purpose too—she’s not just trying to work him hard this time, she’s trying to make him feel _good_.

And she seems to be doing a great job, judging by the way Fangs keeps moaning and his thigh muscles keep tensing against her forearm.

It isn’t until now that Cheryl really takes the time to appreciate the boy’s cock—the admirable size, the surprising thickness, the tuft of course black hair above it and the veins that decorate and criss-cross the length of it.

Cocks aren’t exactly something Cheryl’s ever spent much time thinking about, so she’s not sure she ever had any expectations of one, but as she strokes Fangs’, she finds herself anticipating what it’s going to feel like inside of her.

But that’s something she’s going to have to wonder about for a little longer, because good to his word, once Fangs has reached his limit of stimulation, he’s falling to his knees, pushing Cheryl against the back of the recliner and pulling her panties down from under her dress so he can return the favor.

“Have you ever done this before?” she finds herself asking as he spreads her legs and puts her on full display. She finds she’s anxious to experience the actual act, but strangely doesn’t feel exposed in her current position, merely aroused.

This is thrilling and exciting and she trusts this sweet and dirty Southsider she just met for some odd reason—is this Stockholm Syndrome? Surely that takes more than a couple hours to occur—and she’s suddenly eager for something she’s honestly never thought much about before.

But it seems she’s in good hands with Fangs, because he’ll more than make up for her inexperience, if the wide grin and wiggling eyebrows are any indication.

“Just true me,” he tells her, gripping the back of her thighs so he can place them over his shoulders and get as close as possible to her already dripping sex. “I know how to make you feel amazing.”

And true to his word, Fangs delivers right from the first lick.

Cheryl’s whole body jolts at first contact, somehow not expecting it to feel as good as it does. Fangs’ tongue is soft and careful as he laps at her slit, parting her pink folds as he licks a path up and down and up down and—

“Oh God,” she moans, her fingers finding his hair just as his mouth finds her clit.

Her nails dig into his scalp as he sucks the hooded bud between his lips and traces teasing shapes against it, and it requires all of the concentration Cheryl can muster to make sure she doesn’t press too hard to draw blood.

And while Cheryl’s fingers tangle in dark hair, Fangs puts his own to work, dragging one of them through her wetness until it’s coated and then settling at her pulsating hole, teasing it to start, as if to test her reaction, before slipping in when he’s met with no resistance.

The redhead gasps as she’s filled, though it comes out more like a whine, and immediately bucks against Fangs’ face, wanting and needing more of all of it.

Cheryl doesn’t have much to compare him to—just the small orgasms her own hesitant and exploring fingers were able to draw out of her the few times she’s tried to see what all the fuss was about—but it seems obvious to her that Fangs definitely has as much experience as he claimed.

From all the stories she’s heard from her Vixen girl friends, Cheryl knows that guys aren’t usually very skilled at cunnilingus—if they even bother to try at all—so she must admit she’s very impressed so far.

And when Fangs quickly brings her to the edge with another finger at just the right angle and the perfect amount of suction on her clit, Cheryl can’t wait to tell her minions how good this boy is at eating pussy—name, address and gang affiliation redacted, of course.

Her orgasm is easily three times as intense as anything Cheryl’s ever managed to give herself—like a tidal wave of pleasure compared to a splash. Her thick, pale thighs tremble on either side of Fangs’ head, while her fingers twist in his messy hair, assuring he doesn’t dare move until she’s ready for him too.

Which he doesn’t, of course, and instead helps her down from her high with soft kitten licks and still fingers that don’t move until her cunt has unclenched around from them, and then, it’s just to pull them out.

Cheryl’s eyes struggle to stay open as the fog is only just starting to clear, but when the boy kneeling in front of her comes back into clearer view, he’s looking up at her with an eager smile and a face smeared with her cum.

“So, was it good?” he wonders endearingly, clearly asking because he wants to make sure she enjoyed herself as much as she seemed to and not because his ego needs pumping up.

And something about the question has Cheryl cupping Fangs’ face and pulling him forward as she sits up and meets him halfway for a messy kiss.

Cheryl can taste herself on his tongue and she’s sure he can do the same with hers, and while it’s not romantic by any means, it does somehow feel more intimate than going down on each other had, and she worries she just made it weird.

But thankfully, Fangs comes through for her once again and all he does is laugh when they pull apart. “Wow, Blossom,” he breathes out with a little bit of awe. “Your lips are as soft as they look.”

It gets a laugh from Cheryl, who pushes him away with a playful shove to his face so she can stand up on shaky legs.

“The lipstick is Maple Red, bee-tee-dubs,” she informs him, though she’s not even sure how much of it is even left on her lips at this point. She’d only put on a light coat for her run, and her mouth has been quite busy ever since.

“It’s delicious,” Fangs chuckles as he gets to his feet himself, making a show to lick his lips before he pulls his shirt over his head so he can use it to clean off the rest of his face. “And so are you,” he adds flirtatiously.

Cheryl rolls her eyes at the cheesy line, and then yelps when Fangs lifts her up suddenly and starts walking her across the basement.

“Fangs!” she pretends to protest through her giggles, weakly smacking his back until he’s playfully tossing her onto the couch. “Was that entirely necessary?” she asks as she gracelessly flips over onto her back so she can see him staring down at her.

It isn’t until then that Cheryl fully registers that he’s completely naked, and she can’t deny that the sight in front of her is pretty appetizing itself; she never was one to find the male form all that interesting to look at, but Fangs truly looks sculpted to perfection.

But before she can tell him or he can answer her question, the sound of the basement door swinging open echoes through the room, and they both freeze as they wait, hoping that it’s just Sweet Pea and not the older Serpent here to her pick up early before their plan has been completed.

God—if He’s truly real—is on Cheryl’s side for a second time today, because thankfully, the Serpent that catches them is in fact Fangs’ best friend.

But he’s pissed.

“What the _fuck_ is going on down here?” he demands as he reaches the last step, keeping his distance from the naked and nearly naked teens as he waits for an answer that is at least partially obvious.

“I’m saving her life,” Fangs explains proudly, seemingly not at all bothered by his current state of undress, unlike Cheryl, who tries to discreetly push her dress back down to cover herself up.

Sweet Pea looks like a grumpy cat as he furrows his brows. “ _What?_ ”

“I’m saving her life,” the shorter boy repeats, just as proudly. “She’s totally cool, man, and I don’t want her to die, I kinda like her.” He turns to look at Cheryl and offers her a friendly smile that she struggles to return under Sweet Pea’s judgmental gaze. “And she came up with this really awesome plan, it’s like fool proof.”

“And it involves _fucking_ her?” the taller Serpent asks incredulously. “She just wanted you to untie her, you moron; she was probably gonna brain you first chance she got and run for it.”

“Maybe if I was as stupid as you,” Cheryl snaps before Fangs can reply himself, and she finds she’s defending both herself and Fangs for trusting her. “Unlike you, I think further ahead than what is simply in front of me.”

“Well what’s in front of me is a lot more than I ever wanted to see,” Sweet Pea retorts dryly, sending a quick look in Fangs’ direction before glancing away again.

“Just listen to her plan, dude,” the other boy tries, still seemingly unbothered by his nakedness, even after having it pointed out. She’d assume it’s probably because he looks so good, he may as well flaunt it, but the same can be said for her and she’s not quite as brazen. “I’m telling you, it makes sense.”

The newest arrival scoffs. “Only if you’re thinking with your dick.”

“He’s not thinking with his dick,” Cheryl objects yet again, finally standing up so she’s no longer the lowest of the three like the first time they spoke. Sweet Pea raises a challenging eyebrow at her claim, but she doesn’t back down. “Just because my plan requires him to _use_ it, doesn’t mean that’s what he’s making his decisions with. You really should have some more faith in your friend; he’s smarter than you give him credit for, and certainly a lot kinder than you.”

Cheryl has no idea where that last bit comes from, but when Fangs shoots her a touched, grateful smile, she’s glad she said it.

But naturally, Sweet Pea isn’t as moved by her words. “I’m not trying to be kind, Red.”

“Clearly,” she scoffs, and just like that, an awkward silence falls over the three of them, nobody sure what else can be said, until finally the tallest among them relents with a groan of frustration.

“Fine, whatever,” he mumbles, clearly tired—from frustration and probably from the nap her squealing interrupted—as he takes a few steps further into the basement. “Tell me your brilliant plan then.”

“Gladly,” Cheryl replies smugly before she begins sharing the details with the boy, reciting everything she told Fangs to convince him, but laying it on a little bit thicker for his more hard headed friend.

And by the end of it, it seems she’s won him over. “That…” he eventually tries to reply, clearly searching for a flaw he can point out, but failing to find one. “That might actually work,” he has to admit.

Cheryl’s delighted to find Fangs is mirroring her pompous satisfaction. “Told you,” they both say at the same time.

“But you’re forgetting one detail,” Sweet Pea continues before they can start blowing up their celebratory balloons.

“Which is?”

“I’m not interested in saving you,” he reminds her bluntly.

And though Fangs’ smile falters, Cheryl’s doesn’t. “Yes, but surely you’re interested in fucking me,” she counters just as bluntly, challenging him to deny it.

But of course, he can’t, because everyone is.

“You got me there,” Sweet Pea relents with a shrug, and just like that, Cheryl’s able to convince him almost as quickly as she was able to convince Fangs.

Satan never stood a chance against Cheryl Bombshell.

\---

Cheryl’s confidence is fairly short lived, because it turns out that while she could handle one dick calmly, adding a second one to the mix isn’t quite as easy.

In her defense, it doesn’t help that Sweet Pea is more intimidating than Fangs is, both in attitude and size. Given his height, Cheryl figured he would be, but actually seeing just how big his dick is is a completely different story.

Which isn’t to say Fangs isn’t a respectful size himself, because he is, as far as Cheryl can tell in all of her inexperience, but she’s only questioning how she’s going to be able to fit one of them inside of her. Especially when she can barely fit it in her mouth.

Cheryl tries though. She does everything she learned to do with Fangs because he seemed to like it, and when she thinks to relax her throat after gagging for the third time, she finally figures out how to take it.

Sweet Pea is a lot rougher with everything he does, from the snap of his hips to the hold he has on her head, but Cheryl doesn’t fight it.

It’s partly because that would be hard to do with her hands tied behind her back again—Sweet Pea’s one stipulation before fully agreeing to the plan, other than both of them getting to fuck her bareback—and partly because Fangs’ cock feels too good in her cunt to even think about doing anything that might disrupt his rhythm.

She’s completely naked and kneeling between them—so much for not doing that—bent over an ottoman so that both her pussy and her mouth are at the perfect height for both boys kneeling at either end of her to use as they want to, which they do.

Fangs is going much easier on her of course, but not too easy either; he’s somehow found the perfect pace that works for both of them, and never has trouble finding it again when Sweet Pea is careless with the amount of force he uses to fuck her face with.

With her hands behind her back, Cheryl can’t do much to balance or position herself, but Fangs keeps one of his hands gripping the knot around her wrists while the other holds the round curve of her hip—doing it for her, as best he can.

For the first time since she woke up in this basement, Cheryl truly feels like she has no control over what’s happening to her, and that’s both thrilling and a little terrifying.

And, as it turns out, a massive turn on.

Cheryl always suspected she wouldn’t be into sappy romantic sex, but she never would have imagined she’d enjoy having her body _used_ like this—and by two South Side Serpents at that.

But from the second Fangs bent her over and slowly filled her with his cock, Cheryl’s cunt hasn’t stopped dripping, and somehow, Sweet Pea shoving his down her throat did nothing but make her wetter.

“Always knew you’d like it rough, Red,” the taller boy groans, his breathing uneven and huffy as his hips keep up their unrelenting pace. Cheryl’s honestly not even sure how this feels good for him, but maybe it's just the act of dominating her so easily that gets him off more than any pleasure her slack mouth is actually giving him. But what does she know about blowjobs? “How’s her pussy, Fogarty?”

Fangs doesn’t answer right away, but his thrusts stay consistent, and Cheryl finds herself eager to hear his answer to a question that should feel degrading, but doesn’t at all.

“Amazing,” he finally answers through his own labored breathing, and her cunt squeezes around his dick in delighted response. “ _Fuck_ ,” he groans at the feeling, digging his fingers further into her hip.

Cheryl hopes she has a bruise there in the morning—assuming she makes it that long.

“I can’t wait to get in that,” Sweet Pea laughs, twisting his fist in her hair a little tighter so he can raise her head to the height he needs it. “I’ve never had rich cunt before.”

Her pussy clenches again at the thought of trying to fit his massive cock inside her, but this time it’s more in anticipation than worry. Fangs’ cock fits her perfectly, stretching her walls just enough and hitting all the right spots—and he seems to just know what pace and angle to hit that works for her somehow—but the closer he pushes her to orgasm, the more Cheryl can’t stop thinking about Sweet Pea turning her inside out.

She comes thinking about it a minute later, with the assistance of Fangs’ fingers on her clit, and thankfully the Serpent boy kneeling in front of her has since removed his cock from her mouth by that time, because Cheryl’s sure she would have choked herself out if she hadn’t, and all of this might have been for naught.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” the redhead chants as she falls apart around Fangs’ dick, followed by a string of what is surely the most monosyllabic words she’s ever uttered. It seems Cheryl loses her endless vocabulary when she’s whiting out from pleasure.

Fangs stays still as Cheryl’s whole body trembles between him and the ottoman she’s laying on, his fingers still rubbing at her clit and prolonging her bliss. Her pussy flutters and clutches at his shaft, pulling him in deeper, as if trying to pull him over the edge with her, but he doesn’t budge.

He’s patient and doesn’t pull out until her orgasm has finished, but that doesn’t stop her from mewling at the sudden loss and emptiness she feels when he does.

But luckily for her, Sweet Pea doesn’t waste any time pushing his friend out of the way so he can take his place, kneeling behind Cheryl’s slumped over body and feeding her still sensitive cunt inch after inch of his big cock.

With no time to properly come down or prepare for the larger size, Cheryl immediately starts whining and squirming in his hold, which does nothing but pull more of his cock inside her.

By the time Sweet Pea’s hips are flush against Cheryl’s ass and he’s got the full length of his cock stuffed inside her still throbbing cunt, Fangs has found his way to the front of her and is offering her his dick to suck, which she eagerly takes.

He’s not rough with her, and instead leaves that up to Sweet Pea, who’s got a tight hold on her waist so that when he pulls all the way out of her, he can plow right back in with twice the force.

Cheryl’s entire body lurches forward from the impact, and when the boy’s next thrust isn’t any gentler, it’s quickly established that he’ll be remaining in control of setting the pace, and Cheryl and Fangs will just have to adjust to fit him.

Not that either of them complain; Fangs doesn’t seem to mind the sloppy attempt at head he’s barely receiving, and Cheryl is more than content to take what Sweet Pea is giving her.

His cock feels just a huge inside of her as she knew it would, but it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as she expected, and soon enough, not even at all; Cheryl’s cunt stretches wide around his shaft everytime he drives into her, and it’s such a tight fit, she swears she can feel all the ridges and veins.

She has no idea how Sweet Pea manages to fuck her at such a steady and fast pace considering that, but Cheryl isn’t really wasting her limited brain power trying to figure it out.

All that matters to her at this moment is how deep Sweet Pea’s cock reaches and the way his thumb is sneaking between the cheeks of her ass to poke at her rim.

“ _Oh!_ ” she practically yelps at the sudden and unexpected feeling, the sound barely muffled by the tip of Fangs’ dick nestled between her lips; at this point, she’s mostly just been teasing his slit and tracing the head of it, so she’s sure he doesn’t mind when it slips out as she attempts to look back at Sweet Pea.

“What’s the matter, Blossom?” the taller Serpent asks with faux concern, a smirk on his face as he presses header against the tight ring, but not quite enough to break through yet. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had anything in your backdoor either.”

Cheryl’s scoff is strangled and muted, but there; again, she hasn’t been preserving her virginity for any religious reason, so to think she’d somehow allow anyone to shove their dick up her ass under the guise of keeping her hymen intact is preposterous. Besides, as an avid horseback rider and gymnast growing up, she’d broken that seal years ago, no penis needed.

“What part of virgin do you not understand?” she struggles to answer through all the panting and jolting.

“Guess we better break in this hole too then,” Sweet Pea muses, applying more and more pressure while still pumping into her cunt. “You know, just in case.”

And then this thumb pops inside and Cheryl’s third orgasm of the night is crashing into her like a brick wall, right out of nowhere.

This one hits her the hardest, and as her full body quivers between them, Cheryl can just barely hear Sweet Pea telling Fangs something though the ringing in her ears, but she can’t understand what. She only catches a glimpse of Fangs getting up before she squeezes her eyes shut against the imaginary bright light.

Cheryl has no idea how long it lasts, but the next thing she registers is that she’s finally being lifted off the ottoman—judging by the ease in which she’s carried, she has to assume it’s by Sweet Pea—and brought back over to the couch she and Fangs were originally planning to fornicating on.

Instead of throwing her down on it again, Sweet Pea drops down first himself and places her on his lap so that she’s facing him—a different finger now nestled in her ass.

He shifts her a little so that he can reach between them and guide his cock back to her cunt and then she’s sinking down on it, her slick, stretched walls welcoming his size with no effort.

“Oh, fuck,” she cries as the back of her thighs meet his.

His cock feels at least twice as big from this angle, and she’s thankful that he doesn’t start thrusting up into her or moving his hips at all. Instead, he focuses on her back hole, moving his finger in and out, just enough to start stretching her wider.

Fangs reappears soon enough, apparently having disappeared when she was so out of it she hadn’t even realized he left the room all together, and he has something in his hand that Cheryl can’t make out and an extra bounce in his step.

“Found it,” he tells Sweet Pea as he takes his position behind her back.

“Told you Tall Boy was fucking freak,” the boy beneath her laughs, carefully removing his finger so he can use his hands to spread her asscheeks apart.

His words are followed by what sounds like a lid being removed and she shivers as something cool and wet is smeared over her hole; it takes her way too long to realize that it’s lube.

And it takes her even longer than that to realize why it’s being used; Fangs isn’t just gonna fuck her back there, he’s gonna do it while Sweet Pea is fucking her too.

Talk about losing your virginity with a _bang_.

“You think you can take both of us?” Fangs asks as he leans in close to her, his chin on her shoulder as his fingers work her wider and get her ready for him.

He says it as if he’s asking for permission, not taunting or teasing her, so Cheryl makes sure to vocalize her consent along with her fervent nodding. “God yes,” she cries, suddenly not satisfied enough with just the one cock in her pussy.

“You heard the lady,” Sweet Pea laughs, pulling her cheeks further apart and leaning back so that Fangs can find her hole when he squats down behind her and lines himself up.

Just like the first time, Fangs is careful and caring, even though he’s obviously eager too, and makes sure to pay close attention to the way Cheryl’s body reacts to him, instead of just waiting to hear any objection she might have.

Not that she has any now, or did back when he first bent her over and broke her open.

It burns and hurts, even with all the lube, and it almost feels like it’s too much to take with Sweet Pea still deep in her cunt, but Cheryl makes no calls to stop. She just clenches her jaw, breathes through her nose and waits until the boy bottoms out.

Once he’s fit himself in all the way, it’s like all three of them let out a sigh of relief and take a minute to get used to the new foreign feeling before any of them dare to move.

But when they’re ready, it’s Fangs that goes first, just as carefully pulling out and waiting for Sweet Pea to find a way to start doing the same before he noses his way back in.

It takes a while for them to get the rhythm down now that they have to work together and Sweet Pea can’t just set the pace himself, but eventually they find it, and before long, the two Serpent boys are sawing in and out of Cheryl’s holes like a well oiled machine.

When one pulls out, the other is pushing in, working in perfect tandem so that the redhead is never empty or left wanting.

As they move together, Fangs goes from panting into the crook of Cheryl’s neck to pressing sloppy kisses against her taunt shoulder blades, his arms reaching around her front to grab at her tits as they bounce.

Cheryl’s really not quite sure how the boys manage to move so smoothly and efficiently when it feels like they’re all tangled together at such strange angles, but she’s glad for it, because she’s on her fourth orgasm of the night in barely any time at all.

She squirts that time, which she had no idea she—or anyone, truthfully—could do, much to the delight of both boys, who literally high five each other gleefully after she soaks them.

If her eyes weren’t already in the back of her head, Cheryl would have rolled them for sure.

The boys manage to last longer than that, but Fangs comes first; he holds her tightly against his chest—as much as he can with her hands twisted up between them—and ruts wildly into her a few more times until he finally stills and starts unloading into her in long, heavy spurts.

It’s such a strange feeling, one that Cheryl can’t quite find the words to articulate, other than to say that—like all of this—she finds she loves it.

After a few more sharp jerks, Fangs is slumping against her back for a moment to collect himself, until Sweet Pea is pushing at the both of them.

“Switch with me,” he grunts his order out, swiftly manoeuvring the three of them around so that Fangs is laid out on the couch and Cheryl is on top of him, leaving her legs wide open and giving Sweet Pea the access he needs to fuck her as hard as he wants.

Which he wastes no time doing, because judging by his erratic thrusts, his own orgasm must not be far off either.

Fangs must notice too, because as Sweet Pea starts going harder and getting closer, his best friend’s fingers find her clit again and start rubbing, so that by the time the taller boy starts coming, he’s not doing it alone.

Sweet Pea’s cum feels a little different in Cheryl’s pussy than Fangs’ does in her ass somehow, but she loves it just as much—it’s the warmth and wetness and the pure risk that gets to her, she thinks, as one last bout of pleasure rolls over her in waves.

He keeps his weight off her when he’s done, but doesn’t move away or out of her just yet, as the three of them pant and throb and come down together; the relative silence between them is broken when Fangs suddenly starts giggling a minute later.

“What?” Cheryl wonders with an endeared smile, five orgasms making it hard to do anything else with her mouth.

“Nothing, nothing,” the boy beneath her insists, but he’s clearly still amused at himself. “Nothing, it’s stupid.”

“What is?” she pushes again, leaning over so that her head falls on his shoulder and she can kind of see some of his face if she cranes her neck enough.

“I just remembered the name for a threesome with two guys and a girl,” he finally answers, trying to suppress a second round of giggles.

“Which is?”

“A Devil’s Threeway,” Fangs manages to say with a straight face, before he bursts into laughter, and Sweet Pea and Cheryl follow close behind.

\---

The three of them are dressed and presentable by the time the older Serpent comes to collect Cheryl, and they all manage to play their parts to perfection.

Byrdie can tell immediately that Cheryl’s no longer a virgin—how, is still a mystery to them all—and after reaming the boys out for fucking up, even though technically, based on their story, it wasn’t actually their faults, she sends them out to go find one of the other four people on the list.

“And get an ugly one this time,” she snaps at them as they make their exit. “We can’t afford another fuck up like this.”

Fangs looks reluctant to leave Cheryl alone in Byrdie’s care, but Sweet Pea drags him up the stairs and out of the basement before his concern blows their cover.

Cheryl doesn’t remember what happens after that, but when she wakes up in her own bed the next morning, she’s _really_ sore and her wrists are rubbed raw.

Nothing else seems to be out of place though, so Cheryl blames it on a hard Vixens practice and tries not to overthink her complete lack of memories of the night before—she must have had _way_ too much to drink at Chuck’s party—and goes about her day as if nothing is out of the ordinary.

And nothing is—other than the rumor going around school that Ben Button is missing.

Or at least nothing else seems to be off until third period, when she walks into class and receives a sweet smile from a cute, relatively clean looking South Side Serpent as she passes his desk, and even stranger, Cheryl finds herself smiling back at him.

 _What the hell happened last night?_ she wonders, but still doesn’t panic.

“What did you end up doing last night?” Josie asks her the very same question as she slips into the seat beside her. “You never showed up at my place and I never saw you Chuck’s party.”

Still unable to recall the details of the previous night, and now even more confused than ever at the fact that she never even ended up at Chuck’s party at all, the redhead settles for keeping it vague as not to worry her best friend.

“Don’t worry, Josie, I had my own fun,” she tells her coyly, knowing just how the other girl is likely to take her answer.

And when Cheryl feels eyes on her and looks up to find the same boy staring at her, somehow, she just knows she’s right.

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't originally supposed to be as Fangs/Cheryl shippy as it ended up being, but Cheryl just continued to be as endeared by Fangs as I did as I wrote it and they ended up here. 
> 
> Would very much appreciate it if you hit that kudos button or left a comment if you liked it. Thanks for reading!


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